


A Hero's Death

by Salustra



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1435198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salustra/pseuds/Salustra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CONTENT:  none<br/>SUMMARY: Wesley and Illyria end up someplace unexpected after death.  Inspired by a manip by  called 'Blue Wesley'.  <br/>SPOILERS: through Ats season 5.  Includes a scene verbatim for 5 x 22 'Not Fade Away'. <br/>DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun.  No money made, don’t sue us!  (or, in more formal language-  <br/><b>Copyright Disclaimer</b> I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found <a href="http://www.copyright.gov/fls/fl102.html"><b>HERE</b> </a><br/>    Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hero's Death

Wesley sat in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. It was not his kitchen, he knew that. He'd never been here before, but it had an odd familiarity to it. It was like the kitchens in any number of soap operas or domestic dramas. There was the feel of falseness to it, and Wesley couldn't quite work out why. 

The kettle boiled, despite the fact that Wesley was watching it. He tried each time to keep the kettle from boiling by watching it but it never worked. He took it off and poured the steaming hot water into the teapot. He'd put the tea in there himself, Earl Grey in a teaball, not a bag. There was a difference, you know? He poured off the tea, adding two lumps of sugar and a spot of milk. He sipped it, hoping to catch them this time, but no. It was like always, no matter how hot the water was, no matter how quickly he poured the tea, it was always lukewarm when he drank it. 

He'd tried once, spilling the kettle on himself to see if he would burn, but the kettle refused to pour on him. Surely there was something supernatural at work. For that matter, the tea was always the same. Plain digestives with no chocolate, and tiny little pale tuna fish sandwiches. He didn't particularly like tuna fish but there the sandwiches were every day, though he didn't make them. He ate them with no relish. Nothing tasted good, nothing tasted bad. It was like the tea, lukewarm in a manner of speaking. 

And, as always happened, the scene replayed in his head. His head was in her lap, her long blue hair draped down over him like a silken curtain. "Would you like me to lie to you now?" 

His vision was dimming but he could still see her. "Yes. Thank you. Yes." He closed his eyes and opened them and there was Fred. He knew it was a lie but he didn't care. "Hello there." 

She was crying. Somewhere down deep he knew it was wrong. This was Illyria, why was she crying for him? "Oh, Wesley. My Wesley." 

She kissed him twice on his lips, then on his forehead once. "It's gonna be OK. It won't hurt much longer, and then you'll be where I am. We'll be together." She was still crying and it broke his heart, even now, remembering. 

"I-- I love you," he had said. Even though it was Illyria he was speaking to. 

"I love you. My love. Oh, my love." She was still crying and he wanted so to wipe away those tears. 

But he died then. He knew he was dead and he saw her still weeping for him as he left his body, as he was drawn.... here. The more he remembered this scene, the more he was sure. He had loved her, even as Illyria, and she had loved him. But what did it matter now? He was dead and stuck in this place where nothing seemed to matter. Where the memory of the moment of his death seemed the only real thing. 

Then someone entered the room. Now _this_ was different. He'd been here a long time it seemed, and no one else had been around. He looked up to see a very surprised Illyria. He blinked at her, then finally he spoke. He hadn't spoken for days, it was a bit dotty talking to oneself. "Care for some tea? It's not particularly good," he continued. "But it's all there is." It was an inane thing to say but it was all he could manage. 

"You," she said. "You are dead." She strode over and touched his face. "Then so, I suppose, am I. Because you are most certainly here."

"Have some tea," pressed Wesley. Tea made him feel normal and this was a not-normal situation. He poured a cup, putting in three sugars and some lemon, the way Fred used to take hers. 

Illyria ignored the tea. "I grieved for you. I do not grieve. I killed many many demons because of the grief." She looked down at herself. "I think it is how I come to be dead now. I remember my grief burning through me like fire and no matter how many I killed, the fire only grew. So I let the fire burn and boil out of me. I became fire. Yes, that was it." 

Wesley gave a ghost of a smile. "Nice to be missed. So you should have a good vanguard in hell." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Is this Hell? Did I somehow end up there with you?" 

She shook her head. "I would know Hell. This is something else. Everything seems to wait here. There is this sense of holding and waiting." 

"Limbo, perhaps?" Wesley asked. "It would make sense. I should have seen it earlier." 

"I do not know the name but it seems to fit the air here. It's neither cold nor warm. There is no life to the air here, no life to anything."

"You are right,"a female voice said. The two of them whipped around to see two figures, one male, one female, clad in silvery robes. "This is Limbo, the great waiting room." 

Wesley raised an eyebrow. He recognized them from Angel's descriptions. "The Powers That Be, I presume? And if so, why are we here?" 

The male spoke this time. "Because you both died heroes. In the service of the Powers. We have a dilemma. Illyria here is a demon god and by all rights should go to a glorious place in Hell where she can rule as pleases her. But..." 

The female picked up the words. "But she is attached to you. She grieved for you. She did not have to die in that battle, nothing but her love kept her there. And love is the noblest reason to fight." 

The male nodded. "Altruism is overrated. Even altruism is a kind of love, if a disinterested one. Love makes people sacrifice more truly than any other cause. Or so my sister assures me."

"So what does this mean? I do not get my kingdom in Hell?" Illyria asked. 

"Ahh there is the crux of it," the male said. "Because he loves you also. So we are giving you the choice. Because by all rights Wesley should be in Heaven. You are heroes, so we give you the choice. You can part and go on to your respective rewards, or you can one or the other choose to accompany the other to Heaven or Hell." 

There was no pause. Wesley spoke. "I'll go to Hell. I'd rather be in Hell with someone I care about than in Heaven alone. You know what they say, go to Heaven for the climate, and Hell for the company." He smiled slightly. 

Illyria cupped Wesley's face. "Oh, my love. You shall be my consort. I will keep you safe." 

With a flash they disappeared. The Powers turned to each other. The male said, "You predicted that. Why would he give up Heaven for love?" 

The female smiled. "He has lived in Hell all his life. The only thing that could rescue him was love. I keep telling you that love is the most powerful force. Someday you will learn, brother." 

"But why him and not her?" 

"She's only just learned about love. And a human can more easily dwell in Hell with the protection of a god than a demon god dwell comfortably in Heaven. She might had offered but he didn't make her choose. He's very sharp, that one, and used to self-sacrifice. They will have happiness there. More than one might expect in Hell." 

"The ways of humans will always mystify me. Well, let us go find the others. They have their own choices to make." 

"And you will see. Love will guide them all."


End file.
